The Detention Chronicles
by Brianna R West
Summary: Snape/Harry (shorts): Detention never felt so erotic..
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is just a series of shorts for those more after the sexual side of things. Hope you enjoy!

**The Detention Chronicles**

**I**

_7:03 p.m._

Harry scrubbed the offending surface, his arms numb from his back and forth strokes the last hour of detention. Spoiled ingredients wafted his nostrils, burning the hairs inside with the vile smell of it. Harry would not show weakness as he scrubbed harder and more effectively than before. _He _was watching him. He, being Professor Snape, had been steadily watching from the desk he perched at, arms crossed over his chest and body leaning backwards against the wood edge. Yes, he was indeed watching from the sensation Harry felt in his hindquarters.

Harry bent farther forward, curving his back, and raising his rear higher into the air. His strokes switched from their back and forth motion to large circular motions, wiggling his rear for the other to watch. He could feel the leer, taste the lust wafting through the air.

The heels of shoes broke through the sounds of scrubbing as Snape made his way to him, grabbing him, and pulling him from his task. Harry almost lost his balance but was saved by the arms that now wove around him, keeping him upright, and pressed firmly to the other.

Raven-black hair tickled his face as lips moved over his, prying open his mouth, and plundering inside. His backside hit the wood of a desk, and his hands grabbed the edge to keep him from falling over it. Harry groaned against the other as his legs were forced apart to accommodate the older and rather dominant of the two. Seizing the opportunity, he wrapped his legs tightly around the man's lean waistline and rolled his hips seductively. This earned him a pull to the head, forcing his neck backwards, in order to be suckled. Clasping his hands at the man's robes, he let out a series of gasps.

"Professor," he pleaded. Before he could say anymore, his mouth was savagely covered with yet another possessive kiss. His robes were torn away from him and the button of his trousers undone. Snape sucked at the sinfully sensitive nubs on his chest and then nibbled, eliciting Harry's voice from his throat. That mouth was truly devilish as it wrapped and snaked over every surface of his flesh. Plunging into the dip of his belly, it tasted him and drove him to madness.

"Enough teasing," Harry rasped. Snape drew away, yanking his trousers from him and sneering down at his exposed body.

"As insufferable as usual Potter," Snape drawled but turned him over to hug the desk and began to knead at the roundness of his backside. Harry could feel the man's hardness through the material of his professor's trousers as he thrust it along the crevice. "This, however, is the only satisfactory part of you, Mister Potter."

Harry arched his head backward as the friction against the desk was causing his ever-hardening arousal to jolt in anticipation. Snape's words ran over him like silk, and he found it hard to breath. Fingers entered him, driving into him with delightful force. Harry let out a surprised gasp which soon turned into soft moans of ecstasy. Snape was soon pressing against him until he broke through and drove deep inside him. Harry let out a guttural groan when Snape wasted no time drawing back and then inside again with unbearable force.

Hands tightly grasped his hips as the thrusts sent him far forward and against the unyielding wood surface. Harry bit his lip, the metallic taste of blood mixing with the smell of their lust. He was getting close, and before he could whisper it, he came hard onto the surface of the desk. His body trembled beneath the man, riding out the waves of burning hot pleasure. Snape pulled out and hot liquid fell onto the small of Harry's back. The low growl of his professor's voice signifying the end of their liaison. Harry was cleaned with a spell, and then he quickly dressed himself.

The two stood in silence for a few moments before they parted. Harry made for the door, but before he left he heard Snape call out to him.

"I will expect you for detention directly after supper tomorrow," he said evenly. "Understood Mister Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

Harry left the room with a very stiff and very satisfied Potion's professor.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Detention Chronicles**

**II**

_6:23 p.m._

Harry strode towards the dungeons, his hands deep within his pockets. These detentions were his only haven from the responsibilities that swarmed around him like bees to a hive. Incessant talking into his ears and maintaining his outwardly happy face was exhausting.

This. _Him. _These were only his alone.

Upon walking inside the cold of the stone-walled dungeon, he could immediately see his professor bent over his desk in the midst of correcting the many reports no doubt given in a last minute effort to maintain his semblance of control. Harry could care less as those fathomless pools of obsidian focused on him from across the room. They were beckoning him forward, daring him to just try to turn and run to see what that would lead to. Harry would never run. He needed the other –needed this- more than he had ever needed before.

Crossing over the short distance, he stood with raw emotion in his eyes. Snape stood, his hand slamming down the quill in its wake, and strode around the small area of desk. He was pulled bodily and led towards the back of class to where the secret entrance hidden behind a painting led to his professor's personal quarters.

Their feet scraped along the stone floor as Snape hastened him towards the living area just beyond. Having no time to take in his surroundings, Harry was molded against the other, his body thudding against a near wall and driven up and into the arms of one Potion's professor.

He grunted his approval as Snape made easy work of the buttons of his shirt, pulling it apart and sliding long, potion-stained fingers to appraise the skin that lay beneath. Harry trembled in wake of the man's possessive touch and gave way to it.

Only in times like these was he able to lose himself. Lose his very title of Savior of the Wizarding World...

Snape lifted Harry away from the wall and brought him to a couch just a few feet from the fire hearth.

It was the first time Harry had been taken to the man's personal rooms; of course, he never had expected romance when these meetings of bodies began. In fact, it was the very fact that Severus Snape saw him as nothing other than another vile student amongst many that Harry first found himself attracted to the older, unreadable Ex-Death Eater. Never had he expected in his wildest dreams that he would be shagging Snape senseless several times a week in detentions; however, stranger things have happened in his time at Hogwarts. Certainly this was just one among many of strange things to paint his future—what future he had left before he was to give it over to the good of the cause.

A tongue was tasting his perspiring flesh as he mused and soon drew him away from thought all together. Snape's mouth wandered every bit of flesh it met with. Harry could barely gasp as his trousers were pulled from him, and then he was at Snape's mercy. He crawled his way into Snape's lap, pressing butterfly kisses where ever he could reach. Fingers weaved through his tangle tresses and forced his head backwards, exposing his neck.

"Must I remind you that it is I who determines the course of your detention, Mister Potter?" Snape's low-baritone coiled around Harry like a snake to its prey. He was only too happy to oblige Snape's every whim. At any moment, Snape could shut him out of his sweet, sinful haven and push him stumbling back into his unbearable reality. No, he would give himself fully to the others' desires.

"No sir," he mumbled, swallowing.

"We are not lovers," Snape hissed as his mouth sucked hotly at the column of Harry's neck. "You are to do as you are told or leave."

"Yes sir," Harry rasped. Snape maneuvered out from under him and pushed him roughly to hover the couch. He complied without reservation and allowed himself to be handled almost violently as the older man prepared him. He felt fingers at the waistband of his briefs; and then they were wrenching them down to pool at his feet. He stepped out but was driven forward in surprise as fingers slick with lubrication thrust into him. Moaning and curling back against the welcomed and familiar feeling of pleasure, Harry easily surrendered to his pleasure.

Snape's fingers bit into his hips as the man pulled him back and onto his scorching hard length. A low hissing sound coupled with those fingers momentarily curling into his flesh came from behind him. The blissfully sickening friction was almost too much to bear as their bodies slid against one another in devastating fervor. Harry, like always, was the first to come of the two. He shuddered violently against the liquid hot feeling that whipped at his body in wave after wave. Snape came almost immediately following, filling Harry and deriving a pleasing moan from his lips. The liquid heat filling him almost completely filled the large void deep within himself.

He fell to his knees, their shaking and his backside aching the only evidence of their coupling. It was enough, he told himself over and over again. Spelling his clothes back on, not having the energy to manually do it himself, he stood on quaking and numb legs. Breathing out heavily, he headed for the door. He paused before almost stepping over the threshold and threw a backward glance at his professor. Snape was sitting on the couch, legs crossed, and his arms drawn against his chest in a very stoic manner. Nothing about his stance would tell you what he had previously been up to, but Harry could feel the closed rejection in his body. It was a silent demand for Harry to leave and remember that their joining was purely physical.

Facing forward, he headed back to his dorm—to his reality.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Detention Chronicles**

**III**

_10:17 p.m._

Robes billowed out behind him, the low clacking of his heels hitting the stone echoing about him as he made his way down the quiet, lifeless corridor.

Surely some insolent and audacious youth was stalking about these corridors,Severus mused sardonically to himself. Ever the vigilant night-stalker himself, he was only too happy to oblige their very strict, inflexible curfew. Certainly a certain golden boy bent on causing mischief was about these corridors, hiding away in a room perhaps?

Severus prided himself on his ability to seek and eradicate those in which believed themselves above rules. Harry Potter was most certainly one of those youths. So above the other lesser students, he believed himself to be. Well, Severus mused internally smirking, not whilst writhing beneath him. He took the utmost pleasure in deflowering everyone's golden boy. Yes, he would destroy every morsel of arrogance in the lithe, lewd body.

Severus stopped himself mid stride to give a look about-images of Potter-boy dancing in his head. Images he could not rid himself of as of late. It was no infatuation. Severus Snape was incapable of infatuation or affection. However, still he could think of nothing except the way Potter felt as he wrapped around him, beaded with sweat and moaning and those emerald eyes flaming with unrestrained lust and rapture.

His lower, distasteful part stirred. Blasted Potter! Severus faulted the boy entirely for his current state. Stalking down the corridor, ignoring the growing heat below, he sought to make the unlucky youth out beyond their curfew pay for his own uncontrollable desires.

When he started pass the astronomy tower, he saw the shadow of a form leaning against the glass paneled window. Marvelous, he celebrated as he stalked forward onto the unsuspecting youth. It was those emerald-green eyes, uncouth locks of raven-black hair hiding away the famous scar, and cheaply-made spectacles that stopped him in his usual lecture. Instead, his previously and not long recovered desire to ravage the boy came to the forefront.

Potter was clad in only a simple white t-shirt and pajama shorts. Certainly the cold of the night would be prickling his flesh. No matter, he thought dismissively. The light clothing would only prove as less of an obstacle for what Severus had planned for the boy.

He was upon the youth, leering down his nose, and pushing the surprised Potter-boy against the glass of the window.

"Breaking your curfew, I see. I should have expected no less of you Potter considering you seem to believe yourself above any instituted rules," Severus hissed. He could feel the boy's arousal and confusion. Potter seemed to have a much desired reaction to their closeness.

"I-," Potter stuttered incoherently. Severus internally cringed. The incessant stuttering was most unwelcome. Deciding it imperative to save himself the headache, Severus leaned forward and brutally stopped those lips, plundering the hot cavern of the boy's mouth and demanding he submit. It did not take long for the Potter-boy to respond in kind. His mouth was inexperienced but willing. He tasted of marmalade and pumpkin juice in which Severus would never admit outwardly or inwardly to finding truly delectable. Nor would he admit to relishing in the eagerness of the boy beneath him as he rid him of his clothes.

Severus turned Potter violently, forcing his hands to splay out against the glass. He admired the tone, sun-kissed rump, kneading the flesh with his hands before spreading it and rubbing his hard length between it. Taking the writhing, lustful beast beneath him was surely to have James Potter rolling in his grave. Severus found himself smirking at the thought and drove himself deep into the boy after no preparation. Potter should be punished for his indiscretion thus received no preparation aside from the lubrication Severus spelled into him just before plowing into the tight body.

Potter was crying out and tightly gripping around Severus' length like a vice. He had to steel himself against the impending orgasm; Severus Snape would never in this life or the next be first to ejaculate. It would be simply outrageous for him to do so. Finding his quick, violent rhythm, the sickening sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoed in the small room. Potter was undone and moaning like the wanton youth he was. It intrigued him how truly lustful this child was.

Slamming himself inside the hot and welcoming cavern, he took a moment to enjoy the immeasurable pleasure that ran through him. This was truly the only satisfactory part about the boy, indeed. Biting back a groan, he rammed himself relentlessly into Potter until he could both hear and feel the boy's orgasm. His length was tightened around impossibly, and he found his release only moments later.

Potter was breathing erratically beneath him, being held up only by the strength of Severus' hands on his hips. It was only moments later that Severus realized the youth had gone unconscious. Cursing the heavens, he spelled the boy's clothing back on and drew him up and into his arms. He wondered vaguely to himself why he felt it his responsibility to see to it that Potter returned to his dorm. He should just leave the child on the stone floor to deal with the shame and pain of having passed out right after intercourse.

Indeed, he should very well do that. However, here he was, Potter-boy in his arms, and his slow trek to his _own_ personal quarters. His actions were contradictory to Severus' usual pattern and it had him bemused. He was not afflicted with any sort of emotion for the boy, Severus reasoned internally. He simply felt as a professor and partly responsible for Potter's current state, it was therefore his responsibility to make sure Potter was not left lying there unconscious.

As he stepped into his rooms, he cursed himself and his actions. Why had he brought Potter here?! He could have simply levitated the boy to his own dorm. Why was he holding the surprising light form in his arms and traveling to his personal rooms? Severus settled the unconscious youth onto the bed, taking a moment to appraise the simple beauty of Potter. Shaking his head and stalking from the room, he pursued his favored chair and drink.

Severus was off his trolley.


End file.
